


An Endless Ruse

by Flowyen



Series: The Plague Doctor [2]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Established Friendship, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, GN Reader, Happy Ending, I'm proud of that honestly, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other, Reader-Insert, everyone else ships it, everyone is still alive and Julian has both eyes, fake engagement, lots of fluff, maybe a little smut who knows, no MC or y/n used, reader has no pronouns, set pre game, so much pining, some fun dialogue, you and julian are very oblivious
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:34:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28709781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flowyen/pseuds/Flowyen
Summary: A pair of purchased rings between old friends leads to a series of increasingly difficult to explain misunderstandings, and sooner than you could have ever thought possible, you find yourself hopelessly entangled in a charade you’re becoming less certain you want to escape.Whatevershallyou do?(AKA - you and Julian are accidentally assumed to be engaged and have to figure out how to break the news to your overly enthusiastic friends. If you even want to, that is...)
Relationships: Apprentice/Julian Devorak, Julian Devorak/Reader, Julian Devorak/You
Series: The Plague Doctor [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1890391
Comments: 40
Kudos: 91





	1. Material Goods

“Isn’t it a pretty ring?” you ask Julian upon returning back to your shop from the market. “There was a traveling jeweler, I thought I’d splurge.”

He examines your new purchase with eager curiosity, turning the gold, elegantly carved band in his fingers. “What’s the jewel in it?”

“Moonstone,” you beam, taking the ring from him and sliding it on. Julian watches you with a sly look on his face, and instantly, you’re wary. “ _What?_ ”

“You’re wearing it on your _wedding_ finger,” he says with wiggling eyebrows. “Are you sure this was a gift to yourself? Do you perhaps have a secret engagement you aren’t telling me about?”

You roll your eyes at the drama, watch him raise his hand to his tormented brow and pout most tragically. 

“It’s just the finger that fits it best, no secret anything.” Indeed, you had tried it on other fingers - on your other hand, even, and it just seems destined for that particular spot. “You know as well as I that I have nothing of the sort. Secret engagement - _as if_ ,” you snort, the idea humorous and somehow a little sad at the same time. 

Julian, predictably, pretends to swoon onto one of the very large shop pillows. “You wound me, my dear. Your closest friend and confidante and yet even _I_ , who knows you ever so well, am not privy to your romantic escapades?”

“What romantic escapades?” you say, just a hint of frustration apparent in your tone. “The last thing I did was that one traveling merchant, and obviously that worked out so _well_.”

A wide grin falls onto Julian’s lips as he stares upside down at you, lanky form sprawled over the cushion. “Ah yes, the magician and the conman. I wondered what had happened to half your clothes when you stumbled back into your shop the morning after. Had I known you had a thing for rougeish types, I would have offered myself and reduced your chance of theft in half.”

“He got my favorite scarf,” you sigh, shaking your head and shelving a tin of powdered gill worm. “If I ever was secretly engaged to someone like that I fully expect you to duel some sense back into me.”

“ _Duel_?” even upside down, you can see his eyebrows raise. “And tarnish _my_ good name when I inevitably win and have to mop your blood out of the streets?”

“What, you don’t think I’ll win? Toss a fireball at you?”

“That would hardly preserve my good name now would it? What fool picks a fight with a skilled magician?”

“You don’t have a good name.”

“Utterly besides the point.”

You laugh, something bubbly and lazy, and you look over at a very red-faced Julian staring fondly back. 

“You might want to sit up before all your blood rushes to your head,” you say, returning to stocking the last new items. “You match your hair.”

You hear the sounds of stretching leather as Julian tumbles and rolls his way back into a semi-seated position, and when you’ve stashed the market basket under the counter, you see him trying to arrange his long limbs in a cross-legged position, a motion not aided by his boots coming over his knees. 

You stare at them, for a moment, the garters keeping the boots tightly situated around his thighs. Perhaps you look for a little longer than you need to. 

You look at your new ring instead, admiring the way the light plays around in the pale moonstone.

“Do you really think I’m the type of person to have a secret engagement?” you ask a little too quietly. “I can’t imagine anyone ever proposing to me.”

Julian laughs, but cuts short at your expression. “That’s a joke, right? You’re joking?”

Your shoulders shrug as your head shakes itself a little, your sunny day suddenly a bit darker. “I don’t know. It’s just… it’s a weird thought, you know? Saying yes to something like that and settling down forever?”

“If it’s any comfort,” he stretches, giving up on the cross-legged thing and spreading his knees wide instead. “I can’t imagine anyone putting up with me for more than a month at the very most.”

“You had that silk trader for two,” you recall, glad to change the focus to someone besides yourself on the matter. “He had nice arms. Strong. He picked you up like a twig.”

“One and a _half_ months, thank you very much,” Julian pouts. “And that was hardly anything serious. Just some drunk nights and mutual boredom.”

“You were devastated when he left for Hjaal.”

He sighs wistfully. “Oh, wasn’t I ever. You know, I always am when they leave. When everyone leaves. Even if it’s nothing more than sex to them.” Julian stares at the ground for a moment, lost in thought. “You and I got very drunk that night, didn’t we?”

You nod. “I was still bitter about being stood up by that one nobleman.”

“The one _what?_ ”

“You know,” you say, awkwardly gesturing around your shoulders. “The one with the… braid. And the snarky attitude. He probably stayed in and stared at himself in the mirror the whole night instead.”

“You have terrible taste in men,” Julian says, wrinkling up his nose. “It’s a wonder you haven’t fallen for me at this point.”

He gives you a funny sort of look after that, like his mouth has run away from him again as it so often does when he's had too much to drink. Only it’s two in the afternoon and as far as you know, the both of you are stone cold sober. 

“Oh please,” you say after a little too much silence has passed to be comfortable. “You’re always taken. How on earth am I supposed to fit into your slew of partners, hhm?”

“I’d make room for _you_.”

He says it with such a smarmy grin that you cannot help but laugh. Had he been sincere about the matter, you’re sure your heart would have stopped beating. No, this is your Julian. Your Julian who is likely too handsome for you and who is certainly too unavailable. What’s really a wonder is that you see him so frequently as it is - he never seems to leave your shop if he can help it. 

You were sure he had a thing for Asra for the longest time, but he kept popping by even when he was out. Julian is undoubtedly _your_ friend, however, no matter how exactly that came to be. If such friendship is merely a happy coincidence to his pining for someone else, so be it. 

“No,” you grin, walking around the counter and leaning up against the front of it, crossing your arms and staring at him smugly. “I’d have to fight off the long line of people desperate for you, Julian dearest.”

“You don’t want to fight for me?”

“Not if you attract more silk traders who could knock me out in one punch.”

“Gods, he was strong, wasn’t he?” Julian sighs, wistfully, and perhaps you’re imagining it, but a little seductively as well.

You bury that thought before you can even fully form it. 

“I need better dates,” you say, staring out the window. “Why don't you pick someone for me? You always know someone who knows someone, right?”

“I’m in a bit of a dry spell myself, love,” he admits. “The problem with having a social network made of pirates is that they have a tendency to sail away, be arrested, or retire on some undiscovered island with more gold and rum than they know what to do with, never to be seen again.”

“Let’s go out then,” you suggest, pushing off the counter and walking over to Julian, extending a hand to pull him up off the low cushion which he merely eyes mischievously. “We’ll be each other's wingperson and see if we can’t break ourselves out of this funk.”

“That _is_ a very nice ring,” he says as you practically shove the thing in his face. “I might just have to steal it from you.”

You try to pull your hand back in before he can grab it, but he’s on you in a flash, pulling you down into the pillows beside him and wrestling playfully for control of your wrist. 

“ _Julian_!” you gasp, cackling with laughter as he digs his chin into your shoulder. He merely grabs you more tightly, and your hand not being accosted by his digs two knuckles into his ribs, earning you a slew of insincere sailor curses as you tickle him into submission, ending with your left hand raised victoriously high in the air as you pin him on the floor with a knee to his chest, staring down at him with a triumphant grin. 

His own smile falters a little, a blush creeping up to his cheeks. “You could… you could absolutely take the silk merchant,” he murmurs, placing his hands palm up in mock defeat. 

Smugly, you swing your knee so that you sit straddling his hips as you admire your purchase in the light of the overhead lantern. “They had this lovely silver band with a garnet set in it,” you say, recalling the spread of rings you could have chosen from. “It looked like it would fit you, and even if not - I could easily magically resize it for you.”

“Can you really imagine me wearing a ring?”

“You wear gloves all the time - no one would even see it.”

“I’m out of Vesuvia’s standard currency,” he winces. “And the lender I normally go to for exchanges is closed today and-”

“I’ll buy it for you,” you offer, suddenly serious. “It wasn’t that much. I bet the vendor’s still at the market.”  
Julian blinks at you, twice. “I mean… you don’t have to do that-”

“Yes I do,” you say with mounting horror as a realization strikes at you. “I forget to pick up some celebratory pumpkin bread and Asra gets back tonight - the stalls were only a street apart from each other anyway and-”

“Asra’s getting back?” Julian asks, his eyes wide. “Why didn’t you say - we should all go out! I can send Malak with a message to Nadia - or it could just be the three of us with some cheap booze at the Raven - I know that’s the sort of thing she usually politely declines.”

Your chest sinks a bit at the thought of having to share Julian and how Asra’s presence will likely mean that neither of you will be leaving the bar to go home with someone else, but that is a trivial matter. You roll off of Julian with a smile which is only a little forced and help him to his feet before a customer can walk in and get the wrong idea.

“I’ll close early,” you say, tugging him to the door and switching the sign above it with a snap of your fingers. “We’ll have to hurry though - Selasi stops the ovens soon.”

“You get the ring,” Julian winks. “Selasi promised me a loaf after I stopped a bandit last week and had to dash off before I claimed the reward.”

“I’ll meet you back here, then?”

“Yes. Unless you get yourself kidnapped, of course. In that case, send a raven at your earliest convenience and I shall try to do my best to be understanding of the circumstances.”

With a snort, you punch him lightly in the arm and go your separate ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello returning readers! I finally have another Julian fic for you! I aim for weekly updates, and the ratings and tags might change a little as I go. So far, I have 3 more chapters already written with plans for perhaps 5 in total. 💖
> 
> If this is the first fic of mine you've found and you've enjoyed it at all thus far, I have several other Arcana stories of varying characters and styles already posted :)


	2. Misunderstanding

The Rowdy Raven has never been so packed. You, Julian, and Asra have only just managed to squeeze yourselves into a rickety corner booth at the very back of the tavern with you and Asra sharing one bench and Julian spread out on the other, his heel resting on the wood and bringing his knee to his chest. 

“When I was last in the Fennekh desert I got so sunburnt I looked like a lobster for a week straight,” he says, wrinkling his nose at Asra’s most recent travel destination. “I couldn’t even so much as sit down, and I had to go on this absolute manhunt to find someone who would sell me the ingredients for a salve and then someone _else_ to slather it on the places I couldn't reach… it was a disaster.”

“Were you sunbathing without any clothes on?” Asra replies, staring at the contents of his mug somewhat dubiously. 

“He tends to do that,” you chirp, finishing your glass and plunking it down on the table. 

Asra tilts his head. “And you know this because...?”

“Who do you think slathers on his salve when he comes moping back from a sailing voyage or a stint at the palace pools,” you snort, delighting in the way Julian’s cheeks flush at the admission. “Palace pools which I _still_ haven’t had the pleasure of going to, by the way.” You kick Julian’s shin under the table at the same time you elbow Asra in the ribs. 

“I don’t go all that often,” Julian says, sheepishly. “If I go then Lucio insists on parading himself around in front of me and Nadia never gets a break from the idiot.”

“You know you’re welcome to the palace any time,” Asra reminds you. “Nadia’s your friend too.”

“I feel like she’s _your_ friend,” you point at both of them. “I mean she’s lovely, don’t get me wrong, but I hardly know her well enough to show up on the palace doorstep in my swimsuit and demand to be led to the pool.”

Julian barks out a cawing laugh. “Darling, if anyone could manage to do such a thing and not be arrested for public indecency and impudence to the ruling class it would be you.”

You and Asra both raise an eyebrow. “Oh? And what exactly do you mean by that?”

“Look at you,” Julian says unashamed, gesturing to the part of your torso visible above the table. “Nadia and the palace staff should be so lucky.”

You snort as he finishes his tankard unceremoniously, and yet you feel Asra’s eyes on you still. “You’re such a lightweight,” you chide. “And a sentimental drunk at that.”

“I am no such thing.”

“Yes you are,” Asra interjects. “Every time you and I go out together you end up spewing some sonnet or another for -”

Julian kicks Asra sharply under the table, or at least he tries to. The toe of his boot seems to collide into the wooden bench as Asra swiftly brings his legs up and tucks them beneath himself. 

“You perform sonnets?” You ask. He’s never mentioned it.

Julian freezes, and a sly grin slips into Asra’s full lips. “Oh,” Asra says, “He writes them too.”

Julian coughs a little, squirming under your surprised gaze. “Well, I mean…”

“I’m surprised he’s never shown any of them to you. After all, you are the-”

“Most receptive to my theatrics, yes,” Julian says quickly, rushing out all the words at once and earning a startled bit of silence from the rest of the table. You laugh a little, to ease the sudden tension. 

“How many more drinks do I have to buy you to hear a sonnet?” you ask, fishing for your coin purse. 

Julian stares at the pouch morosely. “You need to stop buying me things,” he says, glum. “I have a tab here, and I’m mostly good for paying it off. Plus they do take doubloons, and you already bought me the ring.”

Asra, who had been rummaging around in his satchel, evidently curious at how much money he himself possesses post-adventure, pauses. “Ring?”

“Oh that was nothing,” you explain. “Mine’s much prettier anyway.”

You shove your hand to Asra, who is sitting at the end of the bench to your left while you’re pinned against the wall, and he takes a moment to examine it closely. “Moonstone,” he says, approvingly, his violet eyes sparkling with something you can’t read. “For dreams, intuition, luck…” he wiggles his eyebrows. “Fertility.”

You snatch your hand away, frowning at the ring and that additional latter property you had forgotten about upon its purchase. “ _No, thank you_ , I much prefer to be barren.”

“What?” Asra laughs. “I thought you liked kids - you run that back alley healing ring for all the scraped knees and bumped elbows in the neighborhood.”

“You do?” Julian stares at you. “When do you have time for that?”

“It’s not a big deal or anything,” you say, wishing that Asra hadn’t brought the matter up. “I just… I have a policy where if someone gets hurt in a game of street tag or something they can come and knock on the shop’s back door and I’ll make a quick remedy for whatever injury they’ve got. It’s mostly just belief magic anyway.”

“I didn’t know that,” Julian says ever so softly. “That’s so... sweet of you.”

“Oh shut up,” you snort, wishing you had more booze in the mug to sip at. 

“You got a ring too, though?” Asra asks, turning his attention back to Julian. He holds up a gloved hand, dramatically.

“Indeed, though I wear mine with much more secrecy.”

“Show me?” Asra teases.

Julian looks at you. “Well?”

“I took all the trouble of picking it out for you,” you say, sitting back and crossing your arms. “Plus you wouldn’t let me resize the band to make it fit better, and you were ever so insistent that I give it to you properly and slide the thing on myself, even after you’d dropped it and I was still on one knee to pick it up.”

Asra’s eyebrows shoot up entirely beneath his bangs. “Oh?”

You nod. “Cost me a fortune too,” you joke, knowing that the ring hadn’t been terribly cheap. Garnet was apparently more valuable than moonstone in the mind of the merchant you’d haggled for it with. “This pirate is going to bleed me dry.”

“I did say you didn’t have to go to all the trouble,” Julian scoffs, a little hot around the collar. He starts to pull his leather glove off finger by finger. “The ring was hardly necessary.”

“You can always pay me back with a sonnet,” you tease, earning another blush from him. 

Julian tugs off the last bit of his glove, and demurely splays his hand on the table for Asra to inspect. The latter leans in close, lifting his hand and turning it this way and that. The band itself is quite intricate, with little vines raised out of the metal, all converging and twining around an inset, low profile garnet which twinkles like a drop of blood in the dim tavern candlelight. 

“That’s a perfect match, the garnet,” Asra says seriously. “You know what it means right?”

Julian shakes his head. “You know I don’t buy into the gemstone mumbo-jumbo, Asra, that’s what you two are for.”

“It’s a stone of _love_ ,” Asra carries on as if he hadn’t heard him. “And devotion and inner strength and realizing one’s self worth. Trust and passion and - honestly, Julian, it suits you perfectly.”

Julian stares at you with a gaping mouth, and it is your turn again to blush and look away uncomfortably. 

“Why didn’t you tell me all that when you surprised me with it?”

“I didn’t think…. I don’t know,” you retort, feeling a little warm. “I didn’t know you’d care all that much.”

“But you knew? When you bought it?” 

“I mean… I sell garnets in the shop, so…”

You trail off uncomfortably, your left hand tracing an old knife mark in the wooden table. You had picked it out with some knowledge on the subject, but you thought that it matched his aesthetic more so than his personality. Or, at least that’s what you’d been telling yourself on the walk back home as you prepared to give it to him. 

Asra inhales a moment later, sitting up a little straighter. “You’re both wearing it on your wedding finger,” he remarks with rising excitement. His head snaps up and he looks between the two of you with an unspoken question waiting to burst forth. 

For a moment, you can’t understand why this statement is so significant. Julian wouldn’t let you resize the band due to his suspicion of all things magic (he’d been afraid the spell would go wrong and end up amputating one of his fingers), and much like your own ring, his had fit him perfectly on that finger to begin with. Plus, he’d said it would be the least obtrusive place to wear a ring - that it would be in the way on his thumb or index far more.

For his own part, Julian looks equally ambivalent. “Yes?”

Asra’s eyes absolutely shine. “You’re _engaged_?”

Had you been drinking something at the moment, you are positive it would have ended up sprayed over both your companions in a fit of shocked laughter. “Oh _yes_ ,” you say sarcastically, wiping away some tears from your eyes as you finally catch your breath. Julian is looking at you fondly, a mischievous little smirk on his lips. “We’re _definitely_ engaged.”

You feel another bout of laughter at it all, how absurd the notion is, especially after the both of you had spoken only a few hours ago about how unlovable you are as individuals, at how unfit for long-term relationships. It truly is ironic that Asra would come to such a conclusion so soon after, and so funny that your mirth on the topic masks a longstanding, unplaceable bitterness rooted deep in your stomach.

“I’m so happy for you!” he says with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen him wear. “Do you know how long Nadia and I have been waiting for you to get together?”

You bink, the smile on your lips flickering out. “What?”

Asra presses his hands flat on the table. “We had a bet - I said I’d get you two together publicly by the summer solstice at first, and when that didn’t happen I said by fall harvest. Nadia was sure that you wouldn’t do anything until the Masquerade.”

Julian’s brow is furrowed tightly. “Wait, hang on a second - the… what?”

“She had this whole notion that you’d go as each other’s last minute dates, and that she and I would have to spend the night orchestrating one romantic occurrence after the other without Lucio getting in the way of things - oh _gods_ , she is going to be so happy! We certainly never thought you two would be engaged already - how long has this been going on?”

“Asra,” you say somewhat forcefully. “Lower your voice or else the whole tavern is going to hear you.”

“Oh, is it a secret? A surprise?” He looks slyly to Julian. “And here I was thinking that you were incapable of keeping your mouth shut.”

True to form, Julian lips are parted in shock. Worriedly, he turns to look at you, and you realize that his hand is very nearly gripping yours on the table. You can’t remember the last time you’d seen Asra so excited, and the revelation that he’s been actively expecting you and Julian to end up together sooner or later is rattling around your brain too wildly to leave space for any other coherent thought. 

“I mean, Asra, you know I can keep up a ruse better than anyone,” Julian begins, his eyes wide and pleading for you to interject and set the story straight. 

“So it _is_ a secret, then.” Asra nods to himself. 

“Well,” you start. “I mean, not exactly. Asra, we’re not-”

“I need another drink,” Julian says suddenly, jumping up and banging his knee on the table with a curse. No one in the tavern bothers to so much as glance over at the sound of the disturbance, but you find yourself shrinking into the corner regardless. “Can I get a refill for either of you?”

You’re about to say _yes please_ when Asra stands up too. “No, I promised Muriel I’d go and see him when I got back. I should head out before it gets too late.”

“It’s already nearly dark out,” you say with genuine concern. “And the forest is so hard to navigate through at late hours.”

“Don’t worry.” Asra grabs his satchel. “I’ll spend the night there. Wouldn’t want to impose on you two, now would I?”

Your eyes widen at the implication, but Asra laughs off any attempt to set things straight. “I’m genuinely so happy for you two.”

He says it with such sincerity that your words die in your throat, tasting bitter as you swallow them down. 

You give him a watery smile as he squeezes your hand and looks fondly over at Julian who’s gone rigid as a board. Asra’s curly hair soon disappears into the throngs of the crowd, and you lose him entirely in a blink of an eye. 

For a moment, you simply stare blankly ahead, trying to process what just happened. With a groan, you ram your head into the wooden table, barely registering Julian’s mumbled “I’ll go and order us another round” as he crawls out of the booth and disappears into the crowd himself. 

You’re staring at your ring, at his discarded gloves, a mix of adrenaline flooding your system at the lie you’ve accidentally perpetuated. Will Asra tell everyone the “good news” before you have the chance to chase him down about it? Is the concept of you and Julian together really so easy to fathom?

“So, that happened,” Julian says, sliding a larger version of what you’d been drinking earlier your way and fisting two salty bitters for himself. 

“Did it? It hardly seems real,” you reply, taking a swig and grimacing at the burn in your throat. “We’ll have to tell him at some point. I can’t believe he thought we… I mean, I never would have thought he’d buy it, even if we’d actually pretended to be engaged.”

“Is it really such a difficult thing to believe?” Julian asks quietly. “The both of us together?”

You snort. “ _Yes_.”

He smiles a little, takes a more delicate sip. “Oh, I don’t know. I think we could pull it off.”

“Yeah right.”

“I am somewhat serious,” he says. “There are several notable, practical benefits to marriage - combined taxes, for one, a day of partying in which all our closest friends are forced to celebrate us and send heartfelt gifts and congratulations.”

“I can’t decide if you sound more like Lucio or that one courtier I tried to shag.”

“I thought that was a nobleman? The braid-wearing one who likes wine and stood you up to admire himself in a mirror?”

“Same thing. The court is made only of nobles, which is a little odd that the richest minority of people are the ones making decisions for the rest of us, but anyway-” you take another swig of your drink, barely tasting it amidst all your swirling thoughts. “Asra will be back sometime tomorrow and I’ll explain the whole silly misunderstanding over work.”

Julian hums quietly, staring into his near empty salty bitter in a way which you think is agreement. “That’s likely for the best.”  
Neither of you speak for a long moment, and you can’t say why you feel sad, exactly. 

“I don’t know about you,” Julian says, conjuring up his signature roguish grin, “But if this is to be the only night in which I am ever engaged, and let’s face it, that’s pretty likely, I intend to celebrate such a milestone by getting totally and utterly inebriated. What say you, my _love_?”

He sloshes his drink around playfully, and you think that he couldn’t have possibly made a better suggestion, even if being called ‘love’ however jokingly elicits a similar sloshing in your own stomach. 

“I couldn’t agree more,” you say, downing the rest of your large drink and slamming the mug onto the table as Julian does the same.  
It is going to be a quick night.

Hopefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I picked garnet for Julian before I brushed up on the symbolism behind the stone purely because it matches his aesthetic - it was coincidentally perfect for him, which made me quite happy :)
> 
> Anyway, the plot begins to thicken, hope you enjoyed!


	3. Make Believe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi - sorry for the break on this fic, I'm back now :) The next few chapters are much longer <3

You can’t remember ever feeling so light and giddy in your life as you do while you practically drag Julian up the steps to your apartment above the shop, the both of you at risk of falling precariously down the rickety things at any moment and making such an obscene amount of noise that you’re infinitely grateful that Asra isn’t there to witness it all, even if the circumstances and timing for his departure are a little less than ideal.

“You know,” you giggle, fumbling for the keys in your bag to open the door at the top of the stairs. “You didn’t have to walk me all the way home - I am perfectly capable of handling myself.”

“Nonsense,” Julian slurs. “What kind of betrothed would I be if I let you walk alone in such a state?”

“Well,” you drop the key and Julian holds you up while you reach down to grab it. “You didn’t have to come inside.”

“Darling, you’re incapable of even opening up the door on your own.”

“You’re the one who kept buying me more alcohol.”

“You’re so temperamental when you’re drunk.”

“At least I’m not a useless, emotional-”

“Hey now,” Julian grins, shouldering open the door. “Don’t you speak that way to me, or I’ll call off the engagement.”

You chortle over the threshold in a way that you might have been embarrassed by if you had been either more sober or with anyone other than an equally wasted Julian. Somehow, you’re aren’t sure you could feel embarrassed with him if you tried.

Funny thing, that. 

You stumble onto your favorite armchair, pulling Julian over to the couch.

“What are you doing?” he asks lazily, plopping down with no further persuasion needed. 

“I’m not letting you walk all the way back to your apartment near the docks like this,” you say, gesturing to his general state of disheveled stupor. “That would make me a terrible friend.”

“What? Why - This is my natural state.”

“What is, horny and inebriated?”

Julian blinks. “What about me right now suggests that I’m horny?”

You give him a playful, teasing onceover that lingers a little. “Aren’t you always?"

Julian’s mouth opens and then shuts itself as if he can’t think of a proper response. You laugh even harder, at the risk of toppling over the side of the armchair on which you’ve perched yourself rather precariously.

“I’m serious,” you say. “Stay the night. I’ll rummage around for a pillow or something.”

Julian flops over dramatically. “Oh how _charitable_ , I get the couch.”

“Unless you want Asra’s bed,” you laugh. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. He barely uses it as it is.”

“No no,” he whines. “A wretch like me doesn’t so much as deserve an old blanket. I’ll just lie here, fitting only half of my body on the couch and trying not to vomit myself to death in my sleep.”

“You’re so dramatic,” you call over your shoulder as you stumble your way into the bedroom, intending to snatch a spare blanket from the foot of your bed and one of your extra pillows. However, upon realizing that due to the late summer climate making the apartment almost unbearably hot constantly, the blanket you’d been thinking of is buried deep in the recesses of your tiny closet, and so you’re forced to climb into the thing and look for it yourself. The sounds of the world become muffled as various soft sweaters and smooth silks block everything out, and when you finally emerge with the blanket you’d been searching for you find Julian standing sheepishly in your doorway, leaning against the frame but slipping a little as his shoulder slides off.

“Admiring my ass?” you ask.

“I...not intentionally, no, though it is certainly a fine one.”

You smile and toss the blanket at him, moving over to your bed to grab a pillow. Julian still hasn’t moved though, and looks as though he wants to ask you something. 

“Yes?”

He stares at you for a long moment before shaking his head and taking a few steps forward, faceplanting onto the bed beside you. His legs remain dangling far out over the edge, and as he murmurs something into the duvet, you take the chance to admire his own rear, the tight pants he always wears coupled with the way he’s bent over at the waist making it far too easy.

“What was that?”

Julian sleepily turns his head to the side. “I can’t get the boots off myself.”

You laugh incredulously. “What? Seriously?”

Julian rolls over, taking what seems to be a great effort to support himself on his elbows, though he does not extend such effort into holding up his head, as it flops backwards with his chin high in the air. “Darling I can’t even _see_ straight right now. I simply can’t be bothered with those little knots. Unless you want me putting your lovely blanket all over them in the night, be a good betrothed and help me out, won’t you? Pretty please?”

“Oh Julian,” you sigh, fondly. “How ever do you manage this with your regular trysts? Surely not everyone is so obliging.” 

“I’m ever so persuasive, you know. I’ll do _anything_ you ask of me.” The way he says it, all breathy and pleading, makes your voice hitch in your throat, especially when paired with how he looks up at you through the hair falling deviously into his face. 

“You flirt,” you scoff, tugging the fold of his boot up to expose the leather ties keeping it in place. “I told you you were horny.”

Julian turns a cough of surprise into a laugh at that, and you make relatively quick work of getting the boots off his legs and chucking them across the room to the door so that they don’t stink up the place. When you turn back around, Julian looks so absurdly comfortable that you almost haven’t the heart to kick him out to sleep on the couch. He’s relaxed a bit into the mattress, the lines of his face softening into something peaceful. 

“Julian,” you chide, lowly.

He groans a little, gives a whimper of protest. 

So, you topple down next to him, jostling him a bit in the process. 

“If you take off your outer clothes I’ll let you stay here instead of the couch,” you say sleepily, still fully dressed yourself.  
Julian’s eyes fly open. “Really?”

You nod, putting a toe to your heel and kicking off your own shoes while your fingers reach for the waistline of your trousers. “Don’t make it weird or anything, but... yeah.”

Julian doesn’t really do anything for a moment, and once you’ve stripped yourself down to your undergarments you turn to look at him, expecting to find him asleep. 

Instead, he’s simply looking back at you with a sleepy sort of expression, one which suggests that there’s a problem he hasn’t exactly figured out the answer to yet. 

“Don’t tell me you need help with the rest of the clothes too?”

That seems to jolt him out of his reverie, and his smile lights up as though it is a practiced reflex of his to being caught unaware. “Well, since you are offering.”

You roll your eyes and get to work, undoing the silk tie at his waist and the lacings to his trousers. Julian finds it in himself to stand up in order to get them off, but he sways precariously as the blood rushes to his head, and you lurch up yourself in order to keep him from falling over. 

“I… I should lie down,” he grimaces, already reaching for the bed behind him. 

“Yes, you should.”

You guide him to the side of the bed closer to the window, pushing him into position beneath the covers. You catch sight of the ring on his hand peeking out from beneath his linen sleeve as he rolls over, facing you. 

“You’re too good for that noble, you know,” he says softly, his eyes fluttering shut as you settle in yourself. “You’re… you’re too good for me too.”

“Oh hush.”

“Really. I mean it.” He yawns. 

“Tell me one of your sonnets someday and we’ll call this even.”

Julian blushes fervently at that. “I… uh. Ehem. I’ll do anything else for you. _Literally_ anything else.”

You laugh softly, tap his nose as you pull the covers up to your necks. “I’m going to hold you to that promise. Dangle it over your head until inspiration strikes me.”

A tired exhale from Julian as his shoulders relax. “I’d expect nothing less from you.”

You hum, triumphant. 

The moonlight passes out of a cloud, shining dimly into your room and making his red hair look purple as you turn off the lights with a sloppy wave of your hand. 

“Good night, Julian,” you whisper, turning over so that you don’t have to look at him any longer. Your eyes find his boots by the door instead, and you look at those.

It hurts less, for some reason. 

“Goodnight,” he murmurs.


End file.
